Ten Different Father's Days
by Angelamermaid
Summary: Ten vignettes.
1. Chapter 1

She finds him standing over the crib. The small night light in the nursery lights up his face and his red hair.

She takes his hand. "How was your first Father's Day?"

He smiles gently. "I thought this day would never come, we waited so long for it. And then it went by too fast."

She nods. "You're in your uniform already," she observes. "I wish you could have stayed longer."

He looks quickly at her, blue eyes sad. "I know," he says. "I've got to go back. I made a promise to our country."

"A promise to fight a war that we don't understand," she says bitterly.

"Hey." He raises a hand to cup her face. "It will be over soon. And hopefully, our children will grow up in a world without war. Hopefully, our children will never go to war."

She leans her head against his shoulder. "I hope that world will come."

A car horn sounds on the street outside. He sighs. "I wish I could have stayed longer."

"Me too."

He looks down. "Our child won't know who I am when I return."

"Not true. I have pictures. I have stories. You won't be a stranger when you get back. I promise."

He nods. "Well, I'd better get going." He kisses her, lingeringly. Then he reaches into the crib and softly strokes the red hair of his sleeping son, "Take care now, Owen."


	2. Chapter 2

Owen Hunt feels relief as he finds a spare gurney in a quiet corridor. He curls up on it, first checking that his pager is on. He closes his eyes, willing sleep to come so that he can get a quick nap. He had known that being a resident would be hard, but he was still surprised at how draining it was.

It seems like his eyes have been closed for but a second when his pager vibrates. He checks it and grimaces. He'd love to ignore the page, but he'll pay for it later.

Sighing, he finds a pay phone and calls Beth.

"Owen! When are you getting here?" Beth sounds harried.

"What do you mean?" Owen yawns, checking his watch.

"My father is in town."

"I know, we had supper with him last night."

"It's Father's Day," Beth informs him. "We always have lunch with Daddy on Father's Day."

Owen stifles a curse. "I forgot."

"You forgot? Owen, where are you?"

"I'm at work," he replies, fighting to keep his tone even. "I need the hours. And I'm running on two hours' sleep, Beth."

"Well, run over here and pick me up!" Beth pleads.

"Beth, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Have you forgotten how to drive?" Owen asks.

"You know I don't like to drive downtown where his hotel is," she whines. "Please come get me."

Owen silently counts to five. "Beth, did it occur to you that I may not want to celebrate Father's Day this year?"

"Why? Oh ..." Beth sounds chagrined. "But it's been almost a year since he died, Owen."

"Take a cab," Owen says. He hangs up the phone and goes back to the gurney. Immediately, he feels guilty for being harsh with Beth. He sighs, imagining Beth's tears. He tells himself that just for today, Mike Whitman can cater to Beth on his own. Just for today, Owen needs some sleep and time to remember his father.


	3. Chapter 3

Cristina bursts into Owen's office, and quickly locks the door behind her. He looks up from a file with a surprised look.

"Drop your pants," Cristina says with a devious smile. She's wearing a black raincoat and stockings. Blood rushes to his groin as he imagines the possibilities of what is under the coat.

Laughter comes from the phone on Owen's desk. "Good morning, Yang!" Mark's voice booms.

Owen hastily picks up the receiver. "Gentlemen we'll conclude this call at another time okay bye." He quickly hangs up.

"Who was that?" Cristina points to the phone.

"Derek and Mark."

"Oh, them," she shrugs. "Back to your pants. Off. Now."

"Yes ma'am," Owen grins, standing up and untying his pants. "Have I mentioned that I love pregnancy hormones?"

"You're talking too much," she mutters, dropping to her knees in front of him. "I don't do breakfast in bed, okay? This is your Father's Day present."

"Are you going to do _this_ every year?"

"If I'm not too frazzled by a screaming baby," she says, yanking his pants down to his ankles. "I make no guarantees about how I'm going to like parenthood in a year. I might just hide under the bed with a bottle of gin."

Something in her voice gives Owen pause. He grabs her hands. "Wait, wait."

"What?" She frowns up at him. "You're stopping me? _Now_?"

"It's not easy," he hisses, before crouching down to look her in the eyes. "You're going to be a good mother."

"How do you know?" Cristina looks unhappy. "I'm not the most sensitive person, you know."

He presses his lips to hers. "You're not a robot, you know. Come on, Cristina, it's us. Together we'll be good parents."

She leans her forehead against his and grips his hands. "Do you ever wonder if we know what we've gotten ourselves into?"

"We've gotten through so much," Owen tells her, huskily. "The choking, my trauma, the shootings. A child, our child, is going to be easy compared to what we've already experienced."

"Your therapy is showing," she says with a small smile.

He laughs. "All for you."

"Hmm." She smirks. "Now shut up so I can give you your present."

"Shutting up now."


	4. Chapter 4

"Thanks for lunch, Mom." Owen groans as he rubs his stomach. "You out did yourself today."

"Your first Father's Day is a momentous occasion," she replies, standing up to clear the table.

"Let me help," Owen says, joining her.

"You are the guest of honor, you sit," she insists.

"You trained him too well," Cristina smirks. "He can't not help."

"Go check on Chloe then," Kathy Hunt chuckles. "Go away so you don't feel obligated."

"Fine!" Owen smiles as he heads off to the spare bedroom where his daughter is napping.

"And you can't help either," Mrs. Hunt tells Cristina, as she stacks plates. "I owe you a huge thanks."

"What did I do?" Cristina asks.

"You've done so much for my son." Kathy smiles. "Including making him a father. He is happier these days. Almost like …"

"Like before Iraq?"

"Sort of," Kathy muses. "I was going to say, like his father. Malcolm loved being a dad, he loved holidays and family events and just being with his kids. I see that in Owen now, and it looks good on him."

"Ah." Cristina pauses. "Yes, Owen really loves being a dad. He's a whole other person sometimes. Chloe keeps him grounded in the present."

"Parenthood looks good on you too, you know," Mrs. Hunt observes.

Cristina smiles. "It doesn't suck."

"Look who woke up!" Owen carries Chloe into the dining room as she yawns.

"Did she really wake up on her own?" Cristina smirks.

"_Yes_," he insists. "As soon as I flipped on the light and shook her bassinet a little."

Cristina throws up her hands in mock frustration as Owen laughs.

"Let me get my camera," his mother says. "I need a picture of you three. Go stand over there."

Owen carries Chloe over to the fireplace, and Cristina joins them.

"If she's cranky later because you woke her up, you're dealing with her," Cristina informs him.

"She was on the verge of waking up on her own. I could tell," he grins.

They move closer to each other as Mrs. Hunt approaches with her camera. "Say cheese!"

Owen and Cristina smile for the camera. Something about her son's grin makes his mother pause. Her heart aches briefly, that her husband isn't here to know Chloe or Cristina, or the man that Owen has become. Then she takes the picture.


	5. Chapter 5

Owen folds his arms impatiently, as he sits and watches Chloe climb on the indoor play set at a mall.

"Don't look so grumpy," Cristina says beside him.

"I'm allowed to be grumpy," he replies. "It's Father's Day, we're supposed to be camping, but we're stuck inside a mall while it rains."

"Do you really want to be trapped with me in a tent longer than necessary?" Cristina smirks. "Because I am a world class grouch. You are an amateur compared to me."

"I'm still grumpy."

"Fine." She leans forward and checks on Mallory, sleeping in her stroller. "I'm going to the food court for more coffee. Want anything?"

"No."

"Suit yourself." She stands up and walks away.

Owen sighs and stretches out his legs, watching his oldest daughter. He can hardly believe the nimble four year old is the same baby they brought home from the hospital what seems like a short time ago. He watches as she evaluates each new section of the jungle gym, planning in advance how she will navigate it.

He hears a popping sound behind his left ear and jumps up, heart racing.

"Hey buddy!" Owen whirls around to see a strange man staring at him in the mall.

"Sorry my kid scared you," the stranger says, pointing to a small boy holding a toy pistol. The boy is staring at Owen like he's crazy.

Owen breathes in deeply. "Sorry," he gasps. "I – uh – wasn't expecting that."

The man nods, before guiding his son away. Shaking, Owen sits back on the bench. He tries to ignore the people staring at him. He tries to look nonchalant by reaching into the stroller and brushing hair off of Mallory's face, while she continues to nap.

"Daddy?" He looks up to see Chloe walking towards him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he says, trying to smile. He struggles to slow down his breathing, focusing on the little girl in front of him.

"You're scared," she says with a puzzled expression.

"I don't like guns," he sighs. "Don't worry about me. Go back to playing."

Chloe's brown eyes are huge as she observes him. "Want me to rub your head, Daddy?"

"_What?_"

Chloe puts her thumbs up against her temples. "Mommy rubs your head when you have a bad day."

"Oh," he weakly chuckles."Sure."

She smiles and climbs onto his lap, then rubs his temples gently with her tiny thumbs. He leans back, willing himself to relax, for the sake of the small child trying to soothe him.

"Better?" Chloe asks softly.

"Yes," Owen tells her. He feels sadness - eventually, he'll have to explain Iraq and PTSD to his children. But he also feels gratitude that he has children. "Thank you very much for taking care of me." He kisses the tip of her nose.

"What's going on?" Cristina approaches, carrying a cup in each hand. She looks worried.

"Daddy got scared by a gun," Chloe says. Cristina's eyes widen.

"A toy gun," Owen clarifies. "This kid set it off behind me and it scared the crap out of me."

"Oh." He can see questions in her eyes that she won't ask in front of Chloe.

"Chloe was just rubbing my temples, like she's seen you do," he says. "She helped me relax."

"Thank you for helping Daddy," Cristina tells Chloe. "You can go play again if you like."

"Okay!" Smiling, Chloe jumps down and then runs back to the jungle gym.

"I brought you a coffee anyways," Cristina says, handing him a cup before she sits down next to him. In a low voice she asks, "How bad was it?"

"I jumped up like an idiot," he replies. "But I knew where I was the whole time. I didn't think I was in Iraq."

She takes his hand as they watch Chloe.

"I worried Chloe," Owen says quietly. "I wish the girls had a normal father."

Cristina squeezes his hand. "They have an extraordinary father."


	6. Chapter 6

Arizona Robbins pauses in the doorway of a hospital room and chuckles. "This is how you're spending Father's Day, Owen? I thought you were going camping."

"I thought so too," he says, propped up in Mallory's hospital bed with Mallory snuggled in his lap, watching a movie on a portable DVD player. She is wearing vibrant green pajamas and an oxygen mask. "Hurricane Mallory scuttled those plans."

"Hi Dr Robbins," Mallory weakly waves, pulling off her mask to speak.

"Hi Mallory," Arizona smiles. "Do you have pneumonia again?"

Mallory nods. "I'm sick," she says dramatically, then coughs.

"She didn't think she should wear a jacket on a field trip on a rainy day," Owen sighs. "She thinks she's tougher than germs."

Arizona smiles at the freckled five year old imp. "What movie are you watching?"

"_Beauty and the Beast_," Mallory grins. "I love Belle."

"We're watching it for the 142nd time," her father sighs. "In between _The Lion King_ and _The Parent Trap_."

"Those are Daddy's favorite Disney movies," Mallory informs Arizona.

Owen turns a little pink. "Those are the only Disney movies that Daddy can stand," he clarifies.

Arizona chuckles. "I would think Daddy likes _The Little Mermaid_ because she has red hair, just like you."

Mallory shakes her head. "Mommy says I can't watch that. It's a bad movie."

"_What?_" Arizona laughs.

"Ariel gives up her identity so that a boy will like her," Owen explains. "She's not a good role model."

"Belle likes to read," Mallory says, pointing at the screen. "And the Beast gives her a whole library because he likes smart girls. Gaston is the bad guy because he only likes Belle for her looks."

Arizona laughs. "Owen, your daughters are going to conquer the world."

"I know," he grins.


	7. Chapter 7

Owen sighs as he stands in front of the living room window, watching the rain pour down outside.

"Poor Daddy," Mallory says behind him. "Another camping trip cancelled."

He smiles and turns around. His younger daughter is having a tea party in the living room, with some of her treasured toys in attendance. A year old Diego is the special guest of honor. He sits and drools and watches her.

"It will stop raining sometime. I hope," Owen chuckles. He checks his watch - Cristina has gone to pick up supper for Father's Day and should be back soon.

"Diego, stay," Mallory commands, as her little brother attempts to crawl away.

"He's a boy, not an animal," Owen laughs. "Remember when Chloe wanted to adopt a puppy instead of him?"

"That was silly," Mallory giggles, standing up to redirect Diego back to her party.

"And you didn't want to adopt him at all."

"I don't remember that," she says primly. "I _always_ wanted a little brother. From before I was _born_."

"Right." Owen's attention is diverted by Chloe, who is silently beckoning to him from the stairs, looking stricken. "I'm, um, going upstairs for a bit. Watch Diego, will you?"

"Okay."

Owen quietly follows Chloe to her room, noting how she's trembling. "Chloe, what's wrong?"

"Oh Dad," she whispers, on the verge of tears. "I've done something bad."

"Okay," he says softly, shutting the door behind him. "What happened?"

She gulps and points to her bed, where lie pieces of a stuffed animal.

"Chloe," Owen says as kindly as he can. "_What_ did you do to your sister's dog?"

"Well," she gulps. "Mallory was saying Mr. Gus was losing stuffing in one of his legs, so I thought I'd fix him."

Owen rubs his beard, willing himself not to smile. "If he was losing stuffing in one leg, why is he missing three legs?"

She winces. "I didn't do a great job of reattaching the leg." She holds up the body of the toy, and shows him how one leg is awkwardly stitched on. "I made it shorter. So I decided to cut them all off and sew them back on so they'd be even."

Owen carefully takes Mr. Gus' remains from her. The surgeon in him notices that her stitches are even, although the leg is on backwards.

Chloe continues, sadly. "Only now I can't tell which leg is supposed to go where."

"By any chance," Owen says carefully, "Did you ask Mallory if you could 'fix' Mr. Gus before you – started to operate?"

"No," she says, looking down. "I thought it would be easy. It wasn't. I was just trying to fix it as a surprise."

"Okay," Owen says, keeping his voice calm. "New rule – you can't try to fix any of Mallory's things without asking permission."

"Uh huh." She stares at the floor.

"I think I can repair this," he continues, examining the toy.

"You can?" Chloe looks hopeful.

He nods. "I've reattached limbs before. But he's going to be shorter. You're going to have to tell Mallory what you did and tell her you're sorry."

She looks down again, while a lone tear slides down her face.

He sighs and gathers her up in a big hug. She clings to him, small shoulders shaking.

The bedroom door bursts open and Mallory runs in. "Hey Daddy -".

Owen hastily tries to hide Mr. Gus but he is too slow. Mallory's eyes grow wide and she lets out an ear-piercing scream.

"I'm sorry Mallory!" Chloe stammers out. "I tried to fix him for you -" Her words are cut off as Mallory lunges at her and shoves her hard.

"YOU KILLED MY DOG!" Mallory howls, as Owen grabs her and pulls her away. Mr. Gus falls to the floor as Chloe staggers back, starting to sob in earnest.

"Easy now," Owen says, trying to restrain Mallory, who is furiously trying to break free of his hold. "She's sorry and we _don't_ hit."

As she struggles, Mallory's right fist swings up and bashes into Owen's nose. He immediately releases her and puts his hand up to his nose, feeling blood. "Fuck!" Owen growls, then winces.

Wide-eyed, Mallory turns around and stares at him. "I'm sorry Daddy!" She pauses, before reproaching him. "You said a _bad_ word."

"I know!" Owen sighs as Chloe runs to the bathroom.

"I'll get you something!" Chloe yells.

Owen carefully prods his nose. "At least you didn't break it."

Chloe runs back in with a handful of toilet paper. Owen grabs it and holds it to his nose, to stem the flow of blood.

Mallory whirls furiously to point at Chloe, who is still crying. "You killed Mr. Gus!"

"_I'm sorry!_" Chloe wails.

"She didn't kill him," Owen lamely tries to intervene. "She just - amputated his legs."

Mallory screams and picks up the mistreated toy, tears running down her face.

"_What_ is going on?" Cristina appears in the doorway, wearing her coat and holding a wide-eyed Diego. She stares at her two crying daughters, and her husband with a bloody nose. "And what happened to Mallory's dog?"

Owen sighs. "Chloe tried to fix him as a surprise for Mallory and - it didn't go well."

"She killed him," Mallory cries, holding up the remains.

"And what happened to you?" Cristina looks curiously at Owen.

"Hurricane Mallory smacked me by accident while I was trying to stop her from hitting Chloe," Owen sighs.

"And then he said a bad word," Mallory says solemnly.

"It's all my fault," Chloe sobs, collapsing on the floor. Owen sits down beside her as Mallory clings to Cristina. Diego, affected by all of the emotion in the room, starts to whimper.

"And you wanted five kids," Cristina reminds Owen with a smirk.

"I was young and foolish then," he sighs.


	8. Chapter 8

Owen waits impatiently in his truck, trying not to check his watch. He carefully watches the door to an apartment building. Soon, it opens, and Diego steps out, accompanied by his grandfather. Owen climbs out of the truck to greet them. Hector helps seven year old Diego get into the truck, as Owen neatly places his backpack in the back.

"Thank you for letting him spend the night," Hector says, as Diego closes the door. "I'm sorry that Father's Day was the only free weekend I had."

"It's okay," Owen says, waving before he gets back into the truck.

"Do you want to stop anywhere?" Owen asks Diego, as they drive away.

"No," Diego shakes his head. "I'm all right."

Owen quickly glances at his son. "What's wrong?"

Diego shrugs. "Nothing."

"Uh huh." They continue to drive, with Diego silently looking out the window. Owen keeps glancing at him. Diego is normally not a chatterbox, but he is particularly subdued right now.

Spotting a coffee shop, Owen pulls over and parks. "Let's get something to drink."

They sit down at a small table, Diego with a milkshake and Owen with coffee.

"What happened?" Owen finally asks.

Diego looks up at him quickly. "They're - not really my grandparents, are they?"

His father frowns. "Well - biologically they are. But your mother and I are your legal adopted family."

Diego nods. "It's - my grandmother Rita. She's talking again about taking me on a trip to South America. She says it's not fair that you won't let me go."

Owen sighs. "She might think it's safe but we don't." He privately thinks it will be a cold day in hell before his son leaves Seattle with his birth family.

"I don't like her," Diego blurts out. "She won't leave me alone when I visit. She doesn't like it when I want to read, she always wants to talk, talk, talk, and show me pictures of people I don't know. Grandma Hunt is much nicer."

Owen smiles softly. "Grandmother Rita wants you to know where you come from. It's hard for a parent to lose a child, I imagine she misses your birth mother very much."

"And she says lots of things that I don't like, about you and Mom," Diego continues, displaying a rare temper. "She says my clothes cost too much, you guys spoil me, you shouldn't let me read so much, you should let me spend more time with them. Do I _have_ to visit them?"

Owen watches his son carefully, as he ponders his words. "You - don't have to visit them. There's no formal agreement, because legally, we have custody. Your grandfather was the one who asked, quite nicely, if it were possible to spend some time with you and get to know you. We agreed to it because we wanted you to know where you came from, and we didn't think it would harm you."

"Grandfather is nice," Diego says. "So are my aunts and cousins. But I don't want to have any more overnight visits. I hate staying there."

"Okay." Owen exhales. "We won't send you there overnight again. I'm sorry that you haven't been enjoying them. Thank you for telling me that."

Diego nods.

Owen continues. "Do you still want to see your grandfather? Maybe just him for a while?"

"I guess." Diego drinks through his straw. "I think I might want to go to South America some day. Grandfather told me about the reptiles they have where he came from. But I want to go when I'm older, after veterinary school."

"What happened to being an astronaut?" Owen grins.

Diego sighs. "They don't have animals in space, Dad."

"Not yet. You could be the first veterinarian in space."

Diego laughs, flashing one of his brilliant smiles. Then his face falls.

"What?" Owen asks.

"Grandmother Rita said I can't be a vet because I'm HIV+," the boy says quietly.

"You'll find a way to make it work," Owen assures him. "You're very careful. And you're very good at taking your medicine."

"Uh huh."

"You'll make it work," Owen repeats. "Look - we were told you might not live to see your first birthday. We were told that you'd never be able to take part in any sports because you were born with a heart condition. You keep proving people wrong. You can make it work."

Diego nods solemnly and pats his chest. "Mom gave me a good heart. I'm glad I live with you and not there."

"Me too."


	9. Chapter 9

The smell of coffee wakes Owen up. He opens his eyes as his children troop into the bedroom, Mallory and Chloe carrying trays of food.

"Well, well," he grins, sitting up."Breakfast in bed! At last!"

"Happy Father's Day!" Mallory beams."I made breakfast!"

"It smells great!"

Cristina stirs as Diego climbs onto the bed. "Do I smell food?"

"Look at what Mallory made!" Owen smiles as Diego hands him a card. He opens the envelope and laughs. "It's pink!"

"_Yes_," Chloe grins. "You've had every color but pink. We decided to break down your gender-specific thinking."

"Ha!" Owen picks up a mug of coffee. "Mallory, this looks great. If you don't want to pursue medicine, you should be a Culinary Goddess."

"Don't give her any ideas," Cristina mutters, snatching a piece of toast for herself. "Although you are an excellent cook, Mal."

"Thank you." Mallory sits down at the end of the bed next to her sister, casually flipping her braid over her shoulder. She looks at Chloe and sighs. "He's giving us that look."

"What look?" Owen frowns.

"The 'what happened to my baby girls?' look," Chloe smirks. "We're teenagers, Dad."

"We _know_," her parents say together. Laughing, they high-five each other.

"Just think," Mallory muses. "This could be our last Father's Day together."

Owen pauses. "What?"

"It's true," Chloe says. "I'm going to Northwestern in the fall. Who knows where I will be next year?"

"Take it back," Cristina says, watching Owen become very still. "You're ruining Father's Day."

Owen sighs dramatically. "No, no, I can take it. Abandon us, go out into the world, whatever. Don't forget to write."

"Ha!" Chloe grins. "Now, who do we know that once joined the Army, because he wanted more than just an average life? You've set a terrible example."

"I served our country!" Owen protests.

"I will try to be here next year with my beloved father," Chloe laughs.

"And I'll stick around for a few more years," Mallory adds.

"Me too," Diego pipes up.

Owen chuckles. "Thank you."


	10. Chapter 10

Cristina comes home from surgery at lunch time. She's surprised to not find Owen downstairs. She finds him still in bed, watching football on TV and eating potato chips.

"Are we not getting up today?" Cristina asks.

He merely shrugs.

She purses her lips and observes him. He doesn't look triggered, just - sad.

"Father's Day!" Cristina snaps her fingers. "I forgot it was today."

"Uh huh," he mumbles through a mouthful of chips.

"Did our children call their beloved father?" Cristina settles down on the bed beside him. "Or did they forget you exist?"

"They called," he says, holding up his phone.

"Then why are you sulking?"

He sighs. "They weren't here. This is the first year that none of them have been home."

Cristina shakes her head. "We made a huge mistake. We raised them to be independent."

He arches an eyebrow. "Not funny."

"I'm serious," she smirks. "They're scattered all over the globe, instead of living in our basement. We're terrible parents. We should be ashamed of ourselves."

"Stop it," he says, with a small smile.

"You stop it," she retorts. "Owen, they're safe. They're not off in any war zones; they're living extraordinary lives and improving the lives of others. And you're sulking in bed."

"So?"

Cristina rolls her eyes. "Take them off."

"Take what off?"

"Take off your clothes," she grins, unbuttoning her blouse. "I'm going to give you a present. Unless you'd prefer to sulk some more? Maybe we could just sit around and whine about our ungrateful children and our dead fathers?"

He picks up the remote control and turns off the TV. "I'm done sulking."

"Happy Father's Day."


End file.
